I had lived with myself for 35 years before I figured this out. I always knew that there was something. I had even tried to do something about it. I knew my catch phrase to combat it all these years—“Shyness is not a good enough reason not to do something”. I wasn’t sure if I knew just how different I was from others. Especially with my wrong self diagnosis. And even with all my background in Psychology I was so very wrong.
You see, all these 35 years I had diagnosed myself with depression. I could see it from almost the beginning of my memories. I had to allow myself to change the diagnosis to manic depressive order since during my teen years there was lots of mania. Lots and lots. (And I thank Heavenly Father for all of those fun manic times.)
However, nowadays I am definitely not depressed. I know that. I know I have a good life. I can even admit that maybe I don’t want to do that thing with the kids even though I am their mother. And that does not make me depressed or even psychologically unbalanced. Again, thank the Lord, because I still do have an emotional problem that has not been taken care of.
I really feel sure of the diagnosis this time. It fits everything and every symptom. I feel sure that I have a lifetime (well so far) anxiety disorder. It makes me not want to do anything new because I am filled with fear and consternation. It makes me not want to go anywhere because I feel afraid and stifled. And just planning on going somewhere gives me the same feelings. It makes me not want to see anybody because I feel very uncomfortable and sometimes nauseous. Always. Everyday. I understand that sometimes these feelings are real and accurate. Sometimes would be the key word in that sentence. Every minute of the day –except going to bed – would be how to describe when these feelings come into play during my life.
I have long since created my own “logical” reasons for all these feelings so I have been able to live with this disorder and live an outwardly relatively normal life. I WANT to write that I suppose that I have a less severe anxiety disorder because I have been able to lead a normal life. On the other hand, I want to scream that I do not have a normal life and that I have had to fight-- fight all by myself and with myself—for every stinking normal minute in my life. I do want to allow myself some pity because for 35 stinking years I have had to push and shove myself to do all these things and then talk myself into it all over every day and not know why. I just couldn’t experience having a first boyfriend. I had to throw up all over him because it was so stressful. I couldn’t enjoy college life because everyday was filled with so many people and so many new and different choices that I was “mind fucked” every day all day long. Even when there was a small part of me that wanted to try and learn and excel in say, photography, field hockey, writing there was this other monster part that was freaking out and I had to spend so much time calming that monster part that I couldn’t focus on the other interests. Had to? Have to.
Having said all that and still not quite finished with the tears, I have to immediately follow all that up with my thankfulness to all the people in my life that stuck with me and even when we both didn’t understand my behavior they loved me. I have had choice friends over the years: Robyn, Becky, John H., Dan S., Jill, Russ and Rich, Joanna and Lee, Jen, Raq, Criger and Carol. Even Brian Fisher and Trish. I constantly relied on Heavenly Father for 25 years and received countless small miracles to remain “normal”. I have had many unbelievable and extraordinary experiences that have shaped and molded me.
And then I am forced to admit that for the past 12 years I haven’t really done anything extraordinary. I have fought the beast—not knowing really what it was but doing my best – and remained somewhat “normal.” I have been able to raise my kids but for the most part I was not able to enjoy it. I was not able to put my heart into it. I pushed and shoved and fought to do my duty. Don’t get me wrong. I think I remained true to my REAL self and the vision that I have of what a mother is supposed to be and was as much a mother as I could be to the kids but I could’ve ENJOYED it. I could’ve done a couple of other things for myself, for Ryan and Chase, for another little spirit, for a ward, for a neighborhood but I was tied up fighting the beast. And fighting the beast is so tiring. I have been exhausted, beat, wiped out, dog tired, done in for the past 12 years. AND NOT KNOWN WHY.
Now I know why. And that does make a difference. For 7 or 8 years of my marriage I blamed a lot of the beast on my husband. I thought he would make me happy. Now I know that sometimes there is nothing in the world that can make ME happy. Including me. Not blaming him for that helps our marriage. For 15 years I have blamed Salt Lake and Utah Mormons for the feelings that I have going to church or trying to participate with Relief Society women. Now I know better. That helps me see my true core beliefs and my personal commitment to God and know that it is still there with or without the church. And I am able to not blame the church for all my “beastly” feelings. For 25 years I have felt like being wrong or sinning was the worst thing in the world but it isn’t being wrong, it is the anxiety that I have made logical by partnering it with a perceived wrong choice.
Because I am always filled with “beastly” feelings, I have had to ignore my emotions in any decision I make. I would always choose to stay in bed in the morning so those feelings don’t get to be part of the equation. I would always choose not to talk to a neighbor or go visiting teaching so my feelings are ignored. I know they are not my true feelings. And if I do throw in the towel and go with the beast then I have guilt and loneliness and uselessness feelings. So I really can’t win with my feelings. I have to operate under the logical, the responsible, and the sensible. I have allowed the commandments and some of the rules of the LDS church to influence my paradigm to be sure. Mostly I see that it is a good set of rules to pattern off of. And the “mostly” is definitely in that sentence for a reason and that is a totally different story.
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You know, I have had the same thing, same diagnosis, my entire adult life. It didn't start so early with me. And I am wondering if we should not add, "Mormon" to that diagnosis, because I think it is so common to Mormon women.
But it is also common to women. I was just describing my "free-range" anxiety the other day to a friend (and how my anti-depressant helps me deal with it, hint hint). How for so long I couldn't sit still without feeling guilty about what I should be doing, but not quite knowing what that was...
I think also that depression can be coupled with the anxiety, and also that you should talk to your doctor about your self-diagnosis, and really really consider anti-depressants or anti-anxiety drugs, because I do not know what I would do without them.
Is that what it's called??!! I have the 'beastly' feelings too and it is exhausting! Ever since I was a little girl, I had something. My brother remembers me twitching, my mom remembers me saying "my nerves are bothering me", and I remember hearing voices in my head telling me things. My mom said now that she wished she had done something for me, but back then, they didnt know as much as they do now I guess.
I used to think I was obsessive compulsive because I couldnt stop thinking or turn my emotions off. Then I thought it was depression because it was making me depressed. But like you said, I love my life. Its just these damn things in my head that slay me.
They seem to go away during my early 20s but came full force in my late 20's after I had was being weaned off a prescription steroid for 2 1/2 years. I was breaking apart at the seam every second of the day 24/7 and I didnt know why. It felt like the devil was in my head. I couldnt even listen to the radio because all of a sudden, every song was predicting my life - fucked up, I know. I had to listen to my heart ONLY and tell my head to SHUT UP. I liked to invision the sound of a flushing toilet to wash away the beastly thoughts. That seemed to help.
That, and I prayed. I prayed ALOT. I even recited the Lords Prayer and the Psalm about walking through the valley of death. Cause that not only made me feel better but also made my brain concentrate on remember the words over thinking bad things.
My sugar levels were all off from coming off that drug, but the doctors seem to think that I should be fine. What I was explaining was going on wasn't really registering. I tried to research online my head problems and soon found myself diagnosing myself with everything out there. The one thing I did know for sure is I didnt want to take any more drugs. I was going to find another way to get through this.
My husband told me I would never stop this if I concentrated on it every second of the day. So I stopped reading, I started watching my diet very closely and began exercising like crazy. Long long walks, then running, then classes at the gym. After two years, I was finally "tolerating" it which was a big step from where I was.
Now its been 4 years and although I am still caught up in "beastly" thoughts, I know its not me. I know its not my true self and have continued to follow my heart, not my head. What I've added to diet and exercise is yoga and meditation. I truly believe the OM, Mother of all Sound, calmed my beast. It taught my brain how to STOP.
Its really nice to read about someone else having this problem. If nothing else, its just reassuring I am not alone and I can beat this thing. This, beast.
Perfect word, by the way.
Oh, and YES. I feel guilty too about things I dont know what about. What is it with that?? I have to think back to see if there was something I didnt do right or something I said that was wrong. I then realize, I havent done anything.
Kim-- Spookalot is my sister-in-law Amy, and she is working on a "real" banner for your website, because she? Is a genius.
Amy/Spookalot--
I am mostly like you and don't like the idea of pills. Although I am trying at this moment to get hooked on a daily multi vitamin. I so much believe that old cliche. "You are what you eat." or something like that. I think that what we put into our bodies and what we don't put into our bodies really affects all this anxiety/depression/emotional rollercoaster crap.
I did try pills but I never really ever felt a difference. Of course, back then, I was looking at feeling happier, not less worried or less nervous...if that makes sense. My husband would say he could tell a difference but that was not enough to keep me taking them when I didn't feel a dramatic change and also I just felt like a pill junkie. Jen, I in no way think that pills are bad and if they are working they should be used. I am just saying what I feel for me. Maybe that is just a pride thing and I need to get over it. Especially when I am not decreasing the wheat and milk in my diet. Especially when my exercise regiment sometimes is ruined by the very beast that I am combating. Because I do think that regular exercise does my body good. I just need to get more regular. Regular and normal. That is what I need.
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